


Of monsters and mayhem

by Catherines_Collections



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Demons, Drabble, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Psychological Torture, Sleep Deprivation, shadow fox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 12:25:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7892245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catherines_Collections/pseuds/Catherines_Collections
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are monsters that haunt the dark.</p>
<p>He is one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of monsters and mayhem

**Author's Note:**

> Short drabble i had, spruced up, and posted.
> 
> I really love void stiles and i feel like there was so much left undone.
> 
> I own nothing all credit to respective owners, please enjoy.:)

There are monsters that haunt the dark.

He is one of them.

.

He is born with power coursing through his veins. Magic at his fingertips and words engraved into his newly born brain.

He is born the pride and joy of his parents, the protector of his father and mourner of his mother.

He is born with a blessing, he is born with a curse.

He is born with a voice in his head that burries itself deep down until the time is right.

(He will think back on the last reveal as an answer to why he never truly felt alone.)

.

You are mine, the voice whispers, you are me and I am you. We are one. Claws dig into his brain, scraping and scratching.

He grabs his head whimpering, rubbing his hands over it in a futile attempt to stop the pain.

Together, it sighs languidly, we are everything. His mind peals apart and he cries out.

It’s smirking, he can feel it. Cruel amusement echoes through him as the creature within him laughs at the madness it has driven him to.

We are nothing he screams, fury and frustration igniting the words and lacing them with his newfound pain. 

The voice only cackles, slowly withdrawing its claws.

.

When he closes his eyes he can see it lurking, hiding, scheming.

He can feel it smiling as he dreams.

But he can never grab it, hold it down, remove it. Never can shatter it into a million fragments.

For how would one kill the unkillable? How could one destroy a shadow?

.

The forest–the hollow log trees and the shade they give, the humming of the earth beneath his toes–feels like home.

Knock knock knock

He doesn’t dare say it aloud.

.

He’s so tired, worn ragged, left alone and unsuspected.

The others will come to regret leaving him unguarded later.

Are you finally ready to make a deal? asks the sharp smiling shadow.

He takes in a shaky breath.

.

His father would always tell him bedtime stories when he was small. The Sherriff having been desperate for something to occupy his son’s busy mind he would create tales of horses, princesses, and the knights that came to save them.

There were villains to of course; no story would be complete without them. There were wizards and warlocks and dragons and liars.

Stiles never recalls anything about a shadow.

(He never really lets go of the stories, spell-bound by tales of magic and heroism, and his dad will never completely forgive himself for telling them.)

.

Are you ready? Inquires the shadow tied to his feet. It’s smiling again, lips pulled back tightly nearly forming a snarl accompanied by teeth sharp as razors.

He takes a look around the forest once more and conjures the dopiest smile he is capable of. The bags beneath his eyes ache and everything around them seems too quiet.

He takes a breath and releases it through words, “As I’ll ever be.”

.

Wolves howl in the distance and witches and shadows laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought:)!


End file.
